#HI MARS !!!! HURT UR FEELINGS BE UPON YE

[weldfists]

not just a scratch in hs verse pls ...

send me    ‘ not  just  a  scratch ‘    for your muse to catch mine trying to patch up a wound in secret…

Maybe he shouldn’t have stormed off—

What’s the point in being collaborative if he was just going to take everything to heart? This wasn’t like before. He wasn’t nineteen standing before his own flesh and blood, where he was presenting something and already bracing himself for it to be torn apart. It’s so far divorced from everything he’d gone through for years with his music and yet it still made the weight on his shoulders unbearable, the strain in his jaw almost crushing. And before he could let the wounds from the past tear open at the drop of a simple critique he’d excused himself from the studio, despite the odd look Yone had thrown him as he shoulders past K’sante roughly (much to his offense). 

He doesn’t care what it looked like, up and leaving and shoving his seat backward with a growl as he did it. But the sting from just… he can’t even fucking remember what it was that Ezreal commented on that triggered that dread that manifested bone deep within him. But he knows it was enough to echo the words of his father once upon a time and it was enough to make him fly off the handle. This is how he ends up outside the studio; his back pressed firmly against one of the trees nearby as his ears pin flat against his hair despite hidden in the pockets of his beanie as an itch spreads across his arms while he tries to shake out the trepidation. Fruitlessly, really— he knows better than anyone how to shake it.

Is he overreacting? Maybe. 

He can’t think about it now, not when the sting of wood splintering beneath his knuckles scratches that itch far better than talking this out ever could. At least that’s what it feels like. Another wind up, another punch, more wood cracking beneath the hit and digging into his skin. It doesn’t stop till his breathing evens out and it doesn’t feel like there were ants crawling all over him. Doesn’t stop till he realizes just how stupid he was to start in the first place. A flex of his hand blooms a new pain, knuckles bloodied with skin split. Fuck.

Sett up and leaves, angry but not really, set off by something he can’t quite put into words yet with the boys, doesn’t have the patience to talk about it anyways, but to then come back with his hand fucked up? How the fuck was he supposed to explain this? As soon as the adrenaline is gone the regret begins to flood in as he holds his hand carefully, fangs bared at no one but himself. 

Sett thinks he’s been gone for what feels like forever, rushing back inside and moving as quickly as he could to a bathroom. He had to wash it away, hide the fact he wasn’t as in control as he thought he was. Suddenly he’s nineteen with watery eyes and a busted lip and a bloody nose, washing his face silently until the water ran clear and he could stand to look at himself again.

So, no— he doesn’t hear when the door to the bathroom creaks open. Doesn’t hear the footsteps that approach him cautiously, methodically, before stopping not too far behind him— watching. Sett’s only concern was cleaning his hand until he could stand to look at himself again. When the sting of the cold water blasting away the splinters and scabbing was enough to make him wince, that's when he catches the glimpse of white hair posted behind his reflection and he stills completely. Mouth falling open to try and speak only to find nothing to say, distress lingering in the crease of his brow while the water continues to run down his mangled handiwork.

Sett doesn’t try to hide it, but it’s evident in how he sucks in a harsh breath and clenches his fists that being found was frustrating him beyond what he’d ever admit. Perhaps it’s good then, that his ears stay pinned closely to his head, his tail flicking roughly from side to side as he begins his ritual of cleaning his fist once more. In moments like these, Sett’s rather thankful he has them opposed to the myriad of times where they’ve done him dirty. Either way, Yone of all people finding him bloody knuckled and mere moments from panic had not been something Sett was looking forward to.

“I don’t need ya checkin’ on me. S’fine.”

The words cut clean and dry when he does eventually speak, his eyes locked on the other man through the mirror. He wasn’t planning on opening up about what he felt right now or about what dragged a knife across the tender scars within his chest in the studio any time soon. Silently, Sett just hopes that the image of him frantically scrubbing away blood stays hidden within Yone’s mind, and dies with him really. 

But he knows better.  He knows what this will lead to later when the two cross paths in the early mornings and Sett wants nothing to do with it.

[thinkingaboutyoungroyals]

Who Waits For Love (Chapter 3)

Summary: T.J. Kippen lost his chance to tell Cyrus Goodman how he felt when they were in the 8th grade. Now, they are in their junior year of high school and Cyrus is on his 3rd relationship. Is it time to give up… or continue to wait for love?

A/N: This is so much longer than I thought it was going to be. A lot going on here!

When T.J. pulled up to the Goodman home that morning, the porch steps were empty. Furrowing his brows in confusion, he decided to give it another minute or so. Cyrus was rarely late in the mornings but then again, after everything that happened the day before, T.J. couldn’t blame him if he was a little delayed.

When five minutes passed and the door never opened, T.J. grabbed the bag of chocolate-chocolate chip muffins from the compartment beside him and exited his car. He walked up to the front door and rang the bell.

Cyrus’ mother opened the door. “Oh, good morning, T.J.,” she greeted with a kind smile. “I’m sorry but Cyrus isn’t feeling well enough to go to school today.”

The way she flashed him a knowing look after saying that made T.J. realize that she was aware of what happened.

“He told you?” he asked, hesitantly.

Sighing, she nodded. “Thank you for taking care of him yesterday.”

“Yeah, of course. He’s my best friend.” He looked down at the muffins in his hand before handing them over to her. “Can you give him these? My mom made them last night.”

Dr. Goodman nodded, taking the bag. “Of course. I’ll let him know you stopped by when he wakes up. He went back to sleep.”

“Thank you.”

He gave her a polite nod before turning on his heels to get back to his car.

For the first time since he got his license, he was driving to school alone. The absence of enthusiastic chatter made the silence all the more glaring so he turned up the stereo.

It felt a little strange arriving at school alone and just following the crowd. He had gotten used to Cyrus being next to him. Alone, he went to his locker to grab the things he needed for the day.

“Kippen.”

T.J. froze upon hearing the voice he knew and despised so much. 

Scowling, he turned around to see the brunette Lacrosse player who broke his best friend’s heart standing there. T.J. felt a smidge of satisfaction at seeing a bruise marring the corner of the guy’s lips and a little regret that he didn’t do more than just one punch.

“You got some nerve showing your face to me after what you did,” he spat, making sure to lace his words with poison.

Lance’s confidence faltered before he schooled his features to that of the cocky bastard he was.

“Whatever. Where’s Cyrus? I need to talk to him.”

At that, T.J. barked out a sarcastic laugh. “And you think I’d let him talk to you?”

“Pfft, you’re not his boyfriend, Kippen.”

Low blow, but he didn’t let it bother him.

“Neither are you. At least at the end of the day, I’m still his best friend.” He chuckled without humor. “You think after what you pulled, Cyrus would want to get back with you? You’re over, remember? He said so.”

“I can get him back if I want to,” Lance replied, cockily.

T.J. raised a brow. “Really? You think he’d take you back? A little overconfident there, aren’t we, buddy?”

Lance’s gaze flared. “Look, here, Kippen-.”

“No, you look here, Parker.” Squaring his shoulders and standing tall and intimidating, T.J. took a step forward. “This is what’s going to happen. You’re going to stay away from Cyrus. Don’t look at him. Don’t talk to him. Don’t even think about him. Or so help me, I’m going to make sure you’ll never play another game of Lacrosse again. A shame to miss out on those college scouts, right?”

It was an empty threat. T.J. would never actually hurt him (much). But, his old reputation as a middle school bad boy still preceded him. Not to mention, his height allowed him to tower over the Lacrosse player. 

Lance seemed to have lost all his confidence and swagger from earlier. He knew that T.J. had the physical capabilities to render him unable to play another game. He had proven it the day before.

He scoffed. “Fine. Whatever. Keep him, then.” He looked T.J. up and down, wrinkling his nose. “He was boring, anyway.”

T.J. made to lunge at him in anger, school rules be damned.

“Whoa there, Kippen.”

A hand landed on his shoulder and forcibly pulled him back. He turned his head to see Marty, flashing him a warning look. When T.J. turned back to Lance, the bastard was already walking away.

T.J. shrugged Marty’s hand off. “You shouldn’t have stopped me,” he said, heading back to his locker.

“If I didn’t and you got in trouble for beating him up and Cyrus found out, you know you’d regret it,” Marty replied, harshly.

He was right. Unfortunately.

T.J. just huffed, choosing not to respond. After getting heated from that encounter, he needed to clear his head.

Marty leaned against the locker next to T.J.’s. “How’s Cyrus?” he asked, more gently.

T.J. sighed, shutting his locker and swung his backpack over his shoulder. “Not good. He’s not in today. His mom told me he went back to sleep.”

“He’s really broken up about this, huh?” Marty stated as they began to walk together.

“He got cheated on Marty, of course, he is!”

Marty raised his hands in surrender. “Sorry, I just… they didn’t seem serious. At least, Lance didn’t seem to be.”

“When Cyrus likes someone, he gives it his all. No matter what his relationship with Lance was like, I know he gave it his all. That’s why this is breaking him. That… that bastard doesn’t deserve him.”

“Yeah, I agree.”

They walked in silence for a moment, T.J.’s fury slowly being replaced by worry for Cyrus again. He wondered if he should text him just to check in.

“How are you doing, though?” Marty asked.

“Me? I’m fine. It’s Cyrus who’s hurt, Marty.”

“Yeah… but when Cyrus cries, you’re unfocused until he feels better.”

It was true. He hated whenever Cyrus cried. He wanted to cheer him up until he smiled again. For all of Cyrus’ past breakups, he was there as a shoulder to cry on. But, this time, he knew it would take more than just muffins and a High School Musical marathon to take away the pain.

He sighed. “I don’t know, man. I just… I can’t get his face out of my head. How hurt he was and all I want is to just…”

“Kiss his tears away?” Marty teased.

T.J. glared at him but didn’t deny it because, yes, that was exactly what he wanted to do. All the time.

“All I can do right now is just be there for him, like I always am,” he replied.

“At least now you have a chance with him,” Marty tried to help.

“I… wasn’t even thinking about that. You know, too busy being worried about my best friend while trying to not destroy his asshole of an ex.” They finally reached his homeroom. “Anyway, I’ll text him to ask how he is before the bell rings. I’ll see you, guys, at lunch.”

Marty nodded. “See ya.”

T.J. found his seat and sat down before taking his phone out to text.

Underdog Cyrus: Hey. Just checking in if ur OK. I gave ur mom muffins. Let me know if u want to talk. I’ll come right over. Luv u, underdog.

He felt his lips twitch at the last line. He wasn’t shy about telling Cyrus he loved him, anymore. He just wished he had the guts to tell him how deep that love really went. But, as long as Cyrus was okay, he would do everything in his power to make him happy again.

…….......

Time seemed to drag on the entire day. T.J. had History with Cyrus and he normally enjoyed the class. But, that day, his friend’s absence was felt even more as he didn’t have a seat partner to do the day’s class activity with.

Lunch couldn’t have arrived sooner and when it finally did, he bought his food and made his way to his usual table with the Andi, Buffy, Jonah, and Marty. (Some days, he would sit with the basketball team for socialization purposes, but that day was not one of those days.)

They were already seated and digging into their food when he arrived. Andi, Buffy, and Marty were seated on one side so he slid into the seat next to Jonah across from them. He sadly stared at Cyrus’ empty spot next to him and sighed.

“Did you hear from Cyrus?” Andi asked him.

He nodded. “He texted me around third period. He said he was feeling better but he’ll probably skip school for the rest of the week. Good thing it’s Thursday.” He stirred his bowl of chili. “I brought him muffins this morning. I hope it helps.”

“We should try to see him after school,” said Buffy.

“That’s a good idea, we can bring his homework,” added Jonah.

T.J. groaned in disappointment. “I have basketball practice today.”

Jonah nudged his arm with his elbow and grinned. “Don’t worry, we’ll tell him you miss him.”

T.J. blushed but before he could respond, Andi let out an excited squeal. She was looking at her phone and Buffy leaned over to look.

She snorted. “It’s just Amber,” she said, exaggeratedly rolling her eyes but she was smiling.

“She said she did really well on her Sociology test!” Andi squealed as she enthusiastically texted back. Finishing, she put her phone down and sighed, forlornly. “I miss her.”

Andi and Amber were a surprise to everyone. Last year, Andi realized that she might also like girls… and by girls, she meant one specific girl: Amber. And, apparently, Amber always knew she liked girls and tried to date boys to get rid of those feelings...until she met Andi, that is. They started dating last year and were currently in a long-distance relationship, since Amber was away in California for college. But, they seemed to be holding on pretty well.

T.J. always wondered how Jonah felt about both his exes dating, but he still hung out with both girls whenever he could so he probably got over it.

As they all dug into their lunch, T.J. took a moment to observe everyone around him. At first, he only really hung out with them because of Cyrus. After Reed and Lester pretty much abandoned him back in the 8th grade, he didn’t really have any other real friends.

He wondered...Would he have found another group of friends? Ones who actually liked and supported him?

It took him a long time to gain this group’s trust. And, now, even without Cyrus there, he no longer felt shy and out of place when Andi handed him her box of fries to share or when Buffy stole a piece of grape from his fruit cup.

“What are you smiling about?” Buffy asked with a raised eyebrow.

T.J. realized that he was, chuckled, and shook his head. “Nothing. Now, can you please stop stealing my fruit and start getting your own?”

“Nah, it’s not as fun.” And to demonstrate, she reached over and stole a pineapple.

Yep, these were his friends now. 

He couldn’t help but stare at Cyrus’ empty place again.

He really hoped he was okay.

…….......

Thursday ended and Friday passed. Before he knew it, the weekend had arrived. T.J. went to work Saturday morning and by the time he got off in the afternoon, he still didn’t feel like going home. His mom was working until very late, anyway, so he had the day to himself. So, he drove to Cyrus’ house.

He parked across the street from the driveway and made his way to the backyard. Finding Cyrus’ window, he stood under it as he took out his phone and called him.

It took three rings for Cyrus to answer.

“Hello?” His voice was a little raspy.

“Hey,” T.J. greeted. “How are you feeling?”

“Better, thank you. I didn’t cry today.”

T.J. smiled at that.

“Sorry about yesterday,” Cyrus continued.

T.J. had tried to see him after school the day before but Cyrus had shooed him away, saying that he didn’t want to see anyone. T.J. was a little hurt by that but he knew that his friend was going through something that he couldn’t dare to imagine or understand.

“It’s okay, I get it,” he replied. “Are you okay enough to hang out with me today?”

Cyrus chuckled. “Yeah.”

“Great! Then, come out.”

There was a pause.

“What?”

T.J. smiled to himself as he looked up at the closed window. “I’m outside your window. Come out for a drive. We can go anywhere you want.”

He heard shuffling and kept his eye on the window until it slid up. Cyrus poked his head out and found him fairly quickly.

T.J. waved. “Hey.”

Looking confused yet elated to see him, Cyrus replied, “Hey. Why didn’t you just go through the front door?”

T.J. shrugged. “This is more fun.”

His friend did look better, though his eyes still looked droopy and a bit swollen, probably from all the crying. His hair was a messy mop, like he just got out of bed and didn’t have time to brush it.

“And cheesy. What are you? Romeo?”

He was happy to hear that Cyrus was feeling well enough to joke.

“If I’m Romeo then you’re my Juliet,” T.J. couldn’t resist flirting.

To his delight, Cyrus blushed and lowered his head, shyly.

“So… you wanna drive or what?” T.J. asked.

Up on his window, Cyrus nodded. “Okay. I’ll be down in 10 minutes. Just gotta get changed. Come through the front door, you savage! Mom’s home.”

“Okay, see ya.”

Cyrus waved before shutting his window and hanging up. Meanwhile, T.J. bounded back to the front door, a skip in his steps.

Dr. Goodman let him in with a smile, asking how he was and if he would like something to drink. She settled on an armchair in the living room while T.J. plopped himself on the sofa, making small talk.

There was a moment of brief silence where they could hear Cyrus pottering about upstairs as he got ready.

“Is he really okay?” T.J. had to ask.

Dr. Goodman leaned back in her seat. “Well, it’s the first time in days where he’s willing to leave the house. On Thursday, he just slept all day and only came out of his room when Andi and the others stopped by to drop off his homework. Yesterday, he didn’t leave his room at all and was listening to sad music on full volume. I would have reprimanded him but… well… I think he needed to let his emotions out, one way or another. So… I think he could use a distraction today.”

“I’m hoping to do just that. We’ve been worried.”

Footsteps coming down the stairs silenced them. T.J. turned his head towards it to see Cyrus neatly dressed and his hair now brushed.

He flashed T.J. a faint smile. “Hey,” he greeted.

T.J. stood up. “Hey, ready to go?”

Cyrus nodded.

They bid Dr. Goodman goodbye, promising to be back by dinner, and Cyrus followed him out to his car.

“So, where do you wanna go?” T.J. asked as soon as the doors were closed.

Cyrus shrugged.

“Park?” T.J. suggested. “We can go on the swings.”

“Sure.”

T.J. reached over and ruffled his hair, fondly, before starting the car and driving.

Cyrus was silent during the ride, only staring out the window.

“So, you wanna hear something funny that happened in history class yesterday?” T.J. casually said.

“Sure.”

“So we were watching a documentary on the Great Depression…”

Cyrus hummed to indicate that he was listening.

“… and Mrs. Shapiro fell asleep!”

T.J. flashed him a quick look from the corner of his eye and was pleased to see Cyrus breaking into a small smile and chuckling.

“Of course, she did. She finds her own class boring!”

The mood after that turned lighter, even if Cyrus barely spoke.

They arrived at the park and headed right for the playground where, thankfully, their swings were empty and devoid of children. Cyrus immediately went for his swing, sitting on it, and kicking his legs, silently.

T.J. settled on the one next to him, still watching him.

He didn’t like seeing Cyrus so… devoid of life. He wasn’t like this with his past breakups.

Tommy was more of a friend than a boyfriend and sure, Cyrus had been sad, but it was a mutual split. His feelings for Freddie went deeper but they broke up and made up so much that Cyrus didn’t even cry when he broke up with the drummer for the last time. Lance must have been special.

Not for the first time, T.J. wished it was him, instead. He wouldn’t break Cyrus’ heart the way Lance did.

“Legs go up, legs go down,” T.J. began to sing. “That’s how you make the swing go ‘round.”

Cyrus’ lip twitched.

“Come on,” T.J. prodded. “You gotta sing it, Underdog.”

His friend flashed him a look that asked, “Really?” But, eventually, Cyrus sighed in resignation.

“Drag your feet, you go slow,” he sang. “The more you drag, the less you go.”

Smiling, T.J. sang along with him, kicking his legs into the air, enthusiastically.

The sight of two high school guys sitting on the swings and singing what sounded like a nursery rhyme was probably comical to the outside view. But, T.J. didn’t really care what other people of them thought because Cyrus needed this. He needed to feel and be reminded that things would be okay again.

They rarely went to the swings anymore. High school made sure to get in the way of that. But, the rare times they did, it was always for a good reason. Either they were celebrating something or one of them needed comfort. The swings were always there, waiting for them.

“Remember when we first really talked?” T.J. asked, out of the blue. “It was right here.”

Cyrus chuckled. “I thought you were going to make fun of me.”

“Nah, you were too cute. I couldn’t make fun of that.”

Cyrus blushed. “It’s amazing how much things have changed since then, right? Except for these swings. I’m surprised they haven’t fallen apart yet. Unlike my heart.” He dug his feet into the ground, stopping his swinging, and let out a loud sigh. “I’m sorry for being such a downer.”

T.J. shook his head. “It’s okay. You’re allowed to be.”

“I don’t want to feel this way anymore.” Cyrus’ voice cracked as he spoke. “I want to stop crying. I want this pain here.” He placed a fist against his chest. “To stop. I just… want to move on already.”

“And you will, Cy. I know you will because you always do. You always pick yourself back up.”

Finally, Cyrus turned his head to look at him. “Really? You think so?”

T.J. grinned. “Definitely.”

Cyrus’ smile widened. “Thanks, T.J.”

“Anytime.” T.J. pushed himself off his swing. “I’m in the mood for ice cream. What about you?”

“I’ve eaten so much ice cream in the last three days, I feel like my stomach is gonna pop.”

T.J. raised an eyebrow. “So… yes?”

Cyrus stood up. “Lead the way, basketball guy.”

They bought ice cream from a guy with a cart and sat on a bench to enjoy their treats. T.J. regaled Cyrus with stories of what he missed at school, all the shenanigans of their schoolmates, and how he missed the rare day where the cafeteria served curly fries for Friday lunch. At some point, someone came by, walking their puppy, and it resulted in Cyrus getting on his knees on the asphalt to pat and briefly play with the little critter (T.J. took photos and videos).

By the end of their hangout, the color and vitality were back on Cyrus’ face and he was laughing and bouncing as they made their way back to T.J.’s car.

“Today was fun!” he exclaimed. “And that puppy was so cute! I have got to convince my parents to let me adopt one!”

Meanwhile, T.J. placed the key in the ignition, getting ready to drive Cyrus home.

“Hey, thank you, again.”

He turned to his friend, who was watching him, softly.

“You’ve always been there for me, Teej.”

T.J.’s heart fluttered at the complete faith and trust Cyrus had in him.

“I don’t think there’s anyone else in this world I trust more than you…don’t tell Buffy and Andi I said that.”

T.J. chuckled. “My lips are sealed.”

Cyrus sighed and leaned back in his seat, his smile faltering. “I always thought that… Lance would become someone I could completely trust. I’m kind of glad now that I never introduced him to my parents. Can you imagine the humiliation?” He chuckled, humorlessly before sighing again. “Damn, why do I have such bad tastes in guys?”

T.J.s heart began to quicken. “You just haven’t found the right guy. You never know… he could just be… right around the corner.”

Or right beside you, T.J. wanted to say but kept his mouth shut.

Cyrus huffed. “Where? They should just come out and sweep me off my feet.” He flashed him a grin. “I sound demanding. Sorry.”

T.J. shook his head. “It’s fine.” He paused, a lump forming in his throat as he turned his head to look at the wheel, instead. “Actually… Cyrus…”

“Yes?”

“I… um… if you want, you can…”

Go out with me. Date me. Be my boyfriend.

All those words ran in T.J.’s mind. He wanted to say them so badly.

“I can…what?”

Cyrus sounded like he was anticipating his next words. But, they only made T.J. even more nervous.

Cyrus had always said he was an athlete with boundless confidence but he couldn’t be further from the truth. T.J. was a coward when it came to him.

“You can… skip school on Monday,” he ended up saying, mentally kicking himself. “If you’re not feeling better, you shouldn’t go.”

“Oh. Yeah, I thought about that. But, I already missed two days. I don’t want to miss any more. Besides, I need to show Lance that he didn’t break me.”

T.J. finally chanced a peek at him to see Cyrus looking determined.

“I’m strong, right?” he asked, almost tentatively.

Feeling a little brave, T.J. reached out and placed a hand over his. “Very,” he agreed, squeezing his hand before pulling back. “So… ready to go home?”

Smiling, Cyrus nodded.

The drive back to the Goodman home was still silent but it lacked the tense atmosphere of earlier. Cyrus was feeling okay and relaxed enough to turn on the stereo and sing along to a few songs.

Meanwhile, T.J. was in turmoil, mentally scolding himself for being a coward. But, then he reasoned that Cyrus just got out of a relationship and probably wasn’t ready for a new one right off the bat. Besides, he didn’t want Cyrus to go out with him just because he was heartbroken. He wanted Cyrus to go out with him because he wanted to.

He pulled up to the house and parked. It was late afternoon now but he managed to bring Cyrus home before dinner so that earned him brownie points with the Goodmans.

“See you Monday?” Cyrus asked.

He nodded. “Monday.”

Cyrus leaned over and wrapped his arms around his neck and T.J. instinctively brought his own arms up, wrapping around his waist.

“You’re my best friend, Teej.”

T.J. swallowed. “You’re mine too, Cy.”

They hugged for a beat or two before pulling away and Cyrus got out of the car.

T.J. waited until he was inside the house. When the door shut closed, he let out a loud groan, leaning back on his seat, head hitting the headrest.

“I’m an idiot.”

…….......

“You’re an idiot!”

“I know!”

“You said he can skip school on Monday?!”

“It wasn’t my brightest moment, I know!”

Huffing, Marty dropped himself on the bed next to T.J. “He was practically giving you an open invitation to ask him out!”

“I highly doubt it’s that.”

“Dude, you are hopeless.”

T.J. snorted. “Don’t I know it.”

After dropping Cyrus off, T.J. had the bright idea of texting Marty and coming over to his house to rant.

He wasn’t sure if it was a bright idea anymore. Marty just kept on going about how he missed an opportunity to finally make his move.

As they both stared forlornly at the ceiling, the door opened.

“And this is why your moms think I’m some sort of cover-up for your secret relationship with T.J.”

Both boys looked up to see Buffy standing by the door, arms crossed and eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, babe, we’re totally in love,” said Marty as he sat up and opened his arms invitingly.

Buffy rolled her eyes but nonetheless, walked over and plopped herself onto Marty’s lap. Meanwhile, T.J. continued to lie on Marty’s bed.

“So, what’s going on?” she asked.

This allowed T.J. to relay the story again, complete with arm gestures and his inner thoughts of the moment sprinkled in. Buffy listened, nodding or rolling her eyes in response to his narration.

When he was done, she was shaking her head.

“I agree that maybe asking him out right in this moment is a little… inappropriate,” she said, carefully.

“Ha!” T.J. blurted out, pointing at Marty. “I told you.”

“But!” Buffy continued, flashing him a pointed look. “You also shouldn’t waste time like you did after Tommy and Freddie. You’ve been crushing on Cyrus for years, T.J.! You’re a better choice than all of his previous boyfriends! And that’s saying a lot coming from me! So, why don't you just make a move?!”

Yes. Why didn’t he? Ever since 7th grade, there had always been this strange… pull… between him and Cyrus. He never understood what it was. He just knew that he liked him. A lot. Between then and now, he could even say that he had fallen in love. Hard. 

“I’m… scared of losing him,” he replied, softly as he stared at the ceiling. “I should probably just give up. You know how relationships go. Honeymoon stage. Then, you get comfortable. Then, you realize you don’t have feelings anymore. Then, you break up and never talk again. I can’t… I can’t handle it if Cyrus and I stopped talking.”

Buffy and Marty were both watching him now, sympathetic to his plight.

“Is that what you really believe would happen to you, guys?” Buffy asked, gently. “Your entire friendship is not that shallow, T.J.”

“I know… it’s just… I’d rather have him as just a friend and not lose him than go out with him and have things go wrong.” 

He let out a loud and long sigh.

“T.J.-,” Marty began.

“Guys.” He sat up and leaned against the headboard. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.” He managed a smile at them. “And, I’m not going to give up. I’m just… going to let him heal a bit. You know, get rid of all the Lance pain before I swoop in and put his heart back together. That’s a plan, right?”

He sounded confident on the inside but on the inside, his hope felt like a dry desert.

And judging by the looks the couple were throwing him, they weren’t buying it either.

It was worth a shot.

…….......

True to his word, that Monday, T.J. picked up Cyrus for school and he was waiting for him on the doorstep.

The drive was normal with Cyrus chattering, T.J. listening, and the two of them play fighting over who got to choose the next song that played.

This time, Cyrus didn’t leave his side to greet a boyfriend but simply to go to his own locker.

“Are you gonna be okay when…. You know…. When you see him?” he had to ask.

He didn’t have to say a name but Cyrus stiffened before loosening himself up and nodding. “I’ll be fine,” he replied. “Don’t worry. See you at lunch?”

“Yeah.”

With a smile, Cyrus bid him goodbye and bounded off.

T.J. went about his morning routine of being greeted by Marty, walking to homeroom, and settling in his seat to wait for the morning announcements and other stuff to start.

The announcements were a blur – updates on school events, wins and losses of their sports teams, and what they were serving in the cafeteria that week.

T.J. doodled on his notebook, bored.

Finally, announcements were done and they had a full fifteen minutes to do homework, study, or chat before the first bell.

And, then, the door opened. Everyone in class, including T.J., looked up to see the Vice Principal entering with a guy in tow. He was tall with distinguished curly brown hair and really thick eyebrows (that reminded T.J. a bit of Cyrus’ eyebrows, they were really cute).

The Vice Principal briefly spoke to Mr. Singh, T.J.’s homeroom teacher, before clapping the new guy on the back and leaving.

“Okay, kids! Eyes up here!” Mr. Singh called out, but everyone already had their attention on him, anyway. “We have a new student joining our homeroom. Please introduce yourself to your classmates.”

The guy grinned and lifted a hand in greeting. “Hi, everyone. Name’s Aidan. Aidan Ross. Moved here from Florida.”

From sunny Florida to breezy Shadyside? Quite a change.

“Okay, Aidan, there’s an empty seat right there by the window.”

The rest of the class murmured to each other and themselves as they watched the new guy make his way down the aisle. By this time, T.J. went back to his doodling, no longer interested.

“Hey.”

He raised his head to see the new guy in front of him, still grinning.

Oh, right. There was an empty seat next to T.J. right by the window.

“Um, hey,” T.J. greeted back, politely.

The new guy held out a hand. “I’m Aidan.”

T.J. knew that already, he was just introduced.

Nonetheless, he took the hand and shook it. “T.J.,” he provided.

Aidan squeezed his hand. “Nice to meet you.” He let go before proceeding to the seat next to T.J.

Confused, T.J. managed a, “Um… you too.”

That was odd.

A/N: So, I imagined this guy to be... Joshua Bassett. I just really adore his friendship with Luke and while I was setting the story up, his face popped into my head so... here he is! I even used his character name from “Stuck In A Middle”. (Super creative, I know. But I do like the name.)

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